Succubus
by Netsie
Summary: A sort of 'What if' story. What if James Hook crossed paths with a Succubus? A tryst? A battle? A conversation? Click to find out. This is complete, and a small fic.


**Succubus**

"Be careful; I don't want to be attracting unwanted visitors," Hook barked, examining the skyline for that never-aging little urchin. So far, the skies were clear of Pan.

He could see Neverland in the dusky distance, serene and peaceful in its nightly sleep. Inviting it was, luring, whispering of adventures and freedom, and ultimately leaving you stranded. Like butter in a rat's deathtrap.

The lap of the shore filled his ears, followed by splashing - the mermaid almost broke free, but his men held onto the netted bundle more tightly. Hook grimaced. More noise like this and he would be discovered.

Not too long ago he was thought to have been killed in the belly of a cold-blooded killer - and it was true. He closed his eyes in memory.

_He couldn't breathe, his skin felt as if it were on fire, surrounded by a silken embrace of the crocodile's large intestine. He had kicked, punched and clawed like an animal - he felt the crocodile thrash and roll in response to the onslaught coming from within him._

_Not long after, with less-than surgical precision of his only weapon - his namesake -, he burst through the skin of the crocodile, like a child escaping the womb of his mother. He was quickly thrust from the relative safety of the burning stomach into the freezing violence of the tide._

He washed ashore not minutes later, clutching to lava rocks for anchor. He had found himself on a small island just off Neverland - his own personal hiding place for riches he had pillaged from other ships.

He had found his men, some on this island, more on others. They had swum away after abandoning ship. How quickly they had abandoned the Jolly Roger, abandoned _him_ - their skills in loyalty left much to be desired, but god knew they were his only supporters.

He opened his eyes. The men reached the shore, the netted bundle secured underneath their arms. An unearthly shriek erupted from the net.

He smiled at the sight - A mermaid had been captured. A living, breathing mermaid was set as gently as possible in front of him. He puffed the smoke from his cigar and chuckled.

_She is mine, and her knowledge will soon be as well,_ he thought as he glanced down at his hook that shone underneath the moonlight, _one way or another._

His men carefully un-wrapped the bundle as another man poised his sword upon her, should she try anything foolish.

Shedding her net like a butterfly does in chrysalis, Hook held his breath, and his smile faded. No, something was wrong . . . alarm rose in the pit of his belly.

She had no tail. Or rather, she had a tail, but legs as well. Fiery red fins ran down the length of her back as a sailfish's does - her tail was that of a devil, her hands and feet clawed. She was bald, a fin topping her proud head rather than a halo of hair. She was as red as blood and fire, glowing like fresh lava.

The men jumped back in fear and shouted, some ran away, others stayed for fear of Hook's wrath. He shouted at them to stand their ground as he unsheathed his sword, pointing it straight at the demon.

She glared at him with those chilling black and crimson eyes - to catch a demon was as witty as catching the plague; and she did not look thrilled at the pirates' presence.

Hook felt the warmth of his blood drain away, and fought to keep his knees from turning to mush. The demon did not attack. He realized this half-wittedly. Why did she not retaliate?

As if reading his mind, the demon chuckled. "I am Nieg'valeh. You have captured me, James T. Hook, as one captures a genie with his bowl. What will you?" She said, her eyes only swiveling to study the swords pointed at her beating breast before looking back to her captor.

His eyes narrowed. This sounded like a trick - was she asking him what he thought she - no, no, demons did not . . .

Again, as if she knew his inner thoughts, she responded. "I am a creature of Magic, as the fairies and mermaids of this fair isle. Capture a child of magic and receive two wishes, all equal in their own right. Again, I ask, what will you?"

---

3 hours later...

---

Despite the rich clothes, incense, perfumes and jewelry she had been offered by the other pirates, Nieg'valeh felt every inch a prisoner. She felt the closeness of the ship draw in around her, and she could only imagine what she would be asked to do.

Most men, in this situation, asked for sexual favors, riches, power and immortality. The theme was almost always the same, with little differences to separate each experience.

As she was led by Smee through the bowels of The Jolly Roger, she ran scenarios through her mind of what may be requested of her, and how she could warp them to her own will. A dark smirk spread across her lips as she imagined the possibilities.

The smirk quickly faded. Torture was cold comfort. Despite all the souls of men she tormented, every time she was requested a favor through captivity, a small piece of her crumbled away, like an old structure. Was it dignity, she wondered, or was it pride?

Once she had been confined, she could not flee as she wished - she was now bound by Hook's own intention until the favors were wasted. It was simply how the fable was told from mother to daughter to granddaughter. The theme rarely changed - and in Neverland, fables were the law; common sense be damned.

She would do as Hook instructed, as the fable commanded her, but she did not have to enjoy it. And she did not have to make it particularly satisfying for her captor, either.

Nieg'valeh was shown the door of the captain's cabin, and Smee motioned her to enter as a gentleman would a lady. She entered and carefully shut the door, the pirate lackey not objecting to being shut out. _Dine with the devil, best bring a long spoon, _after all. Smee had enough brains to not meddle with forces beyond his control. She would spare him grief for his respect.

Hook, on the other hand . . . She would punish him in her own ways, once the two favors had been exhausted. She examined the riches of the captain's cabin and grimaced.

Hook quickly took notice of her lack of clothes and quirked a brow. "You did not find the clothing suitable?" He sounded stunned, but he quickly recovered, Nieg'valeh noticed. She ignored his comment, unashamed of her naked, red flesh.

"What useless trophies you carry about you," she said, examining the gold and silver of the room, and then looked down at the stuffed pig. She scowled at it. "Such trouble you endure to obtain useless trinkets to fill an empty void."

"And I suppose your harvesting souls of men are mere charms." Hook kept a square face, making sure to look at her black and red eyes, and gingerly set down the porcelain pitcher after filling his cup and hers.

He motioned with his left hand for her to sit. She sat at the edge of the chair, careful not to crush her tail, her back stiff with uneasiness. All pleasantries set aside, she was still a prisoner.

"A point well made," She took in air, trying to stomach the rich furnishings of Hook's cabin, and exhaled her hot breath over the roasted pork. "I see no reason for such frivolous activity in which we participate. Voice your favors and be done with it." She wanted nothing more than to torture him, twist his desires into deformed nightmares, and make him beg for her to stop.

"Frivolous?" He sounded hurt, but his body language betrayed his expression and tone. Offended, yes, emotionally damaged, no. Nieg'valeh cared not - the infinite universe cared little over human feelings, and so did she.

Hook lifted his shell cup and sipped his cabernet sauvignon. He closed his eyes, enjoying its bouquet, favoring its buttery aftertaste. His slow response was more than aggravating to Nieg'valeh.

"I would have thought you would enjoy the pork, Succubus that you are. Shall I return it and request something more palatable?" He picked up an olive and bit half of it. "Do you find Haggis to your liking, fresh lamb, or perhaps phalli is more your taste?"

The demoness laughed, and it nearly sent a chill through his spine to hear it. "I was hoping you had something better to waste your favors on; how you have disappointed me."

Hook chuckled. "No, my dear, as enticing as the thought is - all of this," he gestured to the food on the table and the harpsichord, "Is merely to better acquaint myself with you." Enticing was perhaps the exact opposite of the word he wished to use, but he found it foolish to insult, considering the circumstances he found himself in.

She quirked a brow. "And why would you, Oh Stede Bonnet, dine with a Succubus, if I may be so bold as to inquire?"

Hook hid his scowl with his cup. The demoness certainly knew how to insult, that was plain. He prided himself as a gentleman, but he was still a far cry from the Stede Bonnet. He fought the urge to slap her.

"To be delightfully blunt, I would be a fool to entrust you with my innermost desires," he explained, finishing off his olive, and Nieg'valeh's eyebrows reached her fin line.

"And why is this?" Her interest in him suddenly peaked, though not by much. Throughout her immortal life, she met many seemingly intelligent men - and they all ended up disappointing her with their shallowness.

She fingered the flute of wine before her, studying his features. She looked for any sign of that telltale arrogance of men, the same arrogance that usually claimed their lives. She was finding it hard to pinpoint with the captain, and despite her desire to think ill of the human, he was becoming more fascinating with each eloquent word.

"A gift given by a child of magic comes with its own price," he reasoned, remembering the many stories he heard in his younger years. He set his cup, forcing himself to relax in front of the Succubus. It would not benefit him to show fear - no, fear would do no good at all.

"I've heard countless stories by the fires - of Mermaids offering gifts in return for freedom. A man is offered a priceless gift, only to find it carries a curse. He asks for immortality and turns into a stone. He asks for vigor and finds he cannot satisfy his appetite."

The filthy maggot of a pirate whose hands were on backwards was prime example. He felt his hook press against his outer thigh, its hard surface a painful reminder of his handicap. As much as Hook would crave his own right hand's return, he had no desire to risk his soul to this creature, or any other.

"And you believe these childish stories?" Nieg'valeh asked, giving him a cold look. Only a fool believed everything he heard. Did he truly believe this because it was told at a pirate's victory bonfire? Or did he believe them because . . .

"In the Neverland, all fables are true." Years of experience had taught Hook to never second-guess a rumor, for here in this wretched island of myths and fantasy, they always held the truth, or at the very least, a twisted version of it.

Nieg'valeh smirked, a genuine sign of mirth. "This is true." _Not a fool, then_, she thought, satisfied with his answer. Still, one question in the back of her mind begged to be expressed. "So why bother to capture a mermaid if our gifts and their repercussions are one and the same?"

"I was not searching for favors, but knowledge."

"And what knowledge is this?" Nieg'valeh was more than confident she could provide anything he desired to know - she knew as much as any mermaid. If knowledge was his craving, she could provide easily enough - with a price.

"My business is my own, and the knowledge I seek is exclusively from the mermaids."

Nieg'valeh fought down her irritation. She clenched her fists under the table, trying to contain the emotion she felt well inside her being. Every offer she made he shot down with a gentlemanly politeness that infuriated her.

What did this pirate want exactly? He neither craved her body nor the wishes she could provide, not even the offer of knowledge attracted him. Who has ever denied himself such offers, especially from a succubus, the most difficult of all creatures to capture?

James T. Hook could see her frustration - she had begun to glow so much brighter, and she became all the more red. He realized then that his last comment may have been a grave error. He pressed his finger to his mustache in thought.

He preferred to keep his secrets private - otherwise they wouldn't be secrets, and being a captain of a ship, he had plenty of them to keep securely locked away from others. But perhaps _this_ _particular business _wasn't so dire.

"After Pan took brief command of my ship, as I am sure you are already aware, the mermaids took the riches he threw overboard. They are now in the mermaids' possession. I plan to retrieve what is mine."

She could feel the anger and frustration slide away, like sand in a receding tide. The emotion she was left with was the sense of helplessness, which was not at all pleasant. "I can return to you that which is yours, should you ask it of me."

"Again, my dear, I must decline your offer. What I seek I wish to obtain from the mermaids and them alone."

"Then why suffer the trouble of acquaintanceship?" To Nieg'valeh, it all seemed pointless and confusing. If he wanted nothing from her, then why was she here?

He smiled. "As I have told you, I do not need favors nor your vast knowledge of the island - I seek to merely apologize."

A moment of silence passed. Nieg'valeh's question had been answered, but it was not what she had been expecting. It took almost a minute for her to regain her speech.

"Apologize!" Of all the most absurd things she had ever heard uttered from the lips of men, this took the pedestal. Apologize to a demoness? "Whatever for?"

He took another sip of his wine. "I had intended to catch a mermaid, not you."

His words sifted through her ears like water, and she was almost sure he wasn't saying what she was hearing. She sat before him, humbled, as he continued in his most empathetic tone.

"Being wrapped in that net must have been dreadful, stuck at the bottom of the ocean for _hours_." Hook watched as her expressions evolved from outrage to confusion, and finally to dumb-founded serenity. _Good, _he thought, _soon I will be rid of her. _He knew he would sleep well that night, safe in the knowledge that she would not seek vengeance.

"My only desire is to apologize to you properly before releasing you of your duty."

She wished he hadn't apologized; the desire to torture, brutalize, rape, and maim this man was no longer there. Instead she was left with an emotion she had never felt before. It was uncomfortable and hard to identify - humbleness, was that it? - she wanted nothing more than to be rid of it.

"Nieg'valeh, I release you of your servant bond. Be free with my blessing."

No, this was not what she wanted, this was not what she planned. No one had ever apologized in this manner before - it was always done at her feet, a last-ditch effort for mercy, more often than not done in a pool of blood, not at a ridiculously-luxurious dinner table in a captain's cabin.

Numbly, she stood, bowed as one would to a respected member of society, and walked away.


End file.
